YOU MUST DIE

O death! What ruin dost thou spread,
To lay our children with the dead!
When will thy sword be satisfied?
When cease to spread destruction wide?

Thou cruel foe of human kind,
With sorrow thou dost fill the mind
Of all, in every sphere of life,—
The child, the husband, and the wife.

But why do I count death to blame?
He acts in God's most righteous Name.
As we have sinn'd, so die we must;
The fairest form must turn to dust.

Young people in your bloom, attend;
Consider what will be your end;
The rosy cheek, the sparkling eye,
Will not prevent it; you must die.

Great God! Thy sov'reign grace impart,
With cleansing, healing power;
This only can prepare the heart
For death's surprising hour.

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